


U.N.C.L.E. is a progressive organization

by anastasiiya



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: M/M, Waverly thinks he is crafty but he isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 02:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4770485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasiiya/pseuds/anastasiiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not only is most of the world not tolerant of two men together, but his overly attached agents insist on projecting a neon sign over their weak spot. There's obviously no option but for Waverly to take them into his office and give them a stern talking-to about at least attempting to keep their relationship more quiet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	U.N.C.L.E. is a progressive organization

“Damn it,” Waverly muttered. “They are spies. We are paying them to be sneaky.”

He sighed, placing the report on his desk and taking a moment to massage his temple. The way they circled each other in the office, the fact they took vacations at the same time, that they were always together in between missions… always… 

Their romance was not interfering with their professional demeanor nor was Waverly planning to discourage their affection. However, someone was going to notice. Someone was going to exploit this obvious weakness. It would ruin them. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Waverly?”

Waverly picked up his phone.

“Hello, Heather.”

“Mr. Kuryakin has arrived. He says Mr. Solo will be along shortly.”

“Thank you. Please send them in together.”

Now Waverly was left to figure out the best way to phrase his reproach. He sighed and glanced around his office. The scotch was ready for Mr. Solo, and Waverly had added a table with a few knickknacks between his two guest chairs just in case Mr. Kuryakin felt the need to express his discontent. 

He pulled out Ms. Teller’s report to have on hand—really, the photographic evidence alone was enough to put Mr. Kuryakin in danger with the KGB.

Two quick raps on his office door had him place the report back down, and Mr. Solo opened the door.

“Hello, sir!” Mr. Solo grinned. “Oh, scotch?”

“Please help yourself.” Waverly said.

“Peril?”

Mr. Kuryakin shook his head and he entered behind Mr. Solo. Waverly gestured to shut the door.

“More for me then. Sir?”

“No thank you, Mr. Solo. Please have a seat.”

Mr. Solo poured himself a very generous drink for nine thirty in the morning. Mr. Kuryakin took a seat closest to the door, and Mr. Solo leaned against Waverly’s drink cabinet.

“What can we do for you today, sir?”

Waverly sighed. “Gentlemen, I understand that this is an extremely personal issue, and I feel my intrusion is inappropriate. However, I won’t have two of my best agents in danger. I am glad the two of you are enjoying working at U.N.C.L.E.. As you know, our organization is generally tolerant of workplace fraternization as long as it does not interfere with business.

“However, the two of you... I must ask that due to your unique positions as field agents you please consider restraining your affection.”

Waverly paused to observe the two agents.

“Our… affection.” Mr. Kuryakin was staring at him. 

“Yes, Mr. Kuryakin. If you have a different word you’d prefer to use to describe your romantic interest in Mr. Solo, please let me know.”

Mr. Solo snorted. Mr. Kuryakin turned to glare at him.

“Mr. Waverly, I am not romantically interested in Napoleon Solo.” Mr. Kuryakin said.

“Peril! My feelings!” Mr. Solo gasped. 

“I apologize if this conversation causes strain in your relationship.” Waverly continued. 

“Yes, such strain! Peril, don’t you care about me?”

“I like you alive.”

“You say the sweetest things, darling.”

“Don’t call me ‘darling’.”

“Whatever you want, darling.”

Waverly cleared his throat. “I am concerned your affection will be noticed and exploited by enemies. This action would cause serious repercussions for U.N.C.L.E.. Unfortunately I must ask you to please restrict your affection, especially on missions.”

“Wait.” Mr. Solo interrupted. “Wait, Waverly. You’re serious?”

“Yes. I know this may be difficult for you, and you may need time to adjust.” Waverly tried to convey his sympathy. 

“Oh my God.” Mr. Solo laughed. “Illya, God.”

“I am not your God.” Mr. Kuryakin replied angrily. “I am not your anything.”

“U.N.C.L.E. is willing to provide you time off to—“

“Stop. Talking.” Mr. Kuryakin growled. “You, how? No.”

“What Peril is struggling to articulate,” Mr. Solo interjected, “is that we are absolutely not romantically interested in each other.”

“Not! At! All!” Mr. Kuryakin frown deepened. “How…?”

“Gentlemen, as I said before, U.N.C.L.E. does not care about workplace fraternization.” Waverly straightened his spine. “I am your boss. I am proud of your work performance. I would hope that my office could be a safe place for you both.”

“A safe place.” Mr. Solo clarified. 

“Yes.” Waverly answered. “While it’s unorthodox, you shouldn’t be ashamed of your relationship.”

“I see.” Mr. Solo responded. “Right then. But here’s the thing… we’re not in a relationship.”

“A safe place.” Waverly continued stubbornly. “I understand the world is not a tolerant place; however, U.N.C.L.E. is a progressive organization that prides itself on nondiscriminatory policies.”

“Right.” Mr. Solo flopped into a chair and cradled his scotch.

Mr. Kuryakin glared at Mr. Solo.

“Your fault.”

“My fault! How the hell is this my fault!”

“You did something to make them think that we’re together.”

“What the fuck, Peril? What exactly did I do?”

“Something.” Mr. Kuryakin growled. “You are dumb.”

“God damn it, Illya. I haven’t done shit and you know it.”

Mr. Kuryakin grumbled something intelligible. 

“Christ’s sake.” Mr. Solo sighed. “Waverly, sir, on what basis do you make these claims?”

Waverly passed the report to Mr. Solo. Mr. Solo flipped it open, and Mr. Kuryakin yanked the folder so it settled between them.

“As I said before, U.N.C.L.E. does not wish to cause strain in your relationship.” Waverly reiterated. 

“Oh my God.” Mr. Solo said. “Illya…?”

Mr. Kuryakin pointed to one photo in particular. “You look at me like this?”

“Look at you! Don’t put this on me! Look at you look at me!”

“We are looking at each other, and U.N.C.L.E. sees first.”

“Peril, what—oh.”

“Finish your scotch, cowboy.” Mr. Kuryakin shut the folder and handed it back to Waverly. “Thank you for your concern. We will limit our affection to minimize risks to U.N.C.L.E..”

Waverly smiled at his agents. “Thank you, gentlemen. That is all I ask. Please let me know if you have additional concerns. If not, you’re free to go.”

“We will need adjustment period.” Mr. Kuryakin continued. 

“Yes. Maybe two weeks?” Mr. Solo affirmed, setting his empty tumbler on the end table that is still standing. “We’ll need to practice on location, so we may spend the time in Italy.”

“And Brazil.” 

“Yes, also Brazil.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading
> 
> xoxo


End file.
